An Evening Worth Waiting For
by ProonyPotter
Summary: After many balls and banquets... has Hermione finally found an evening to make up for all the rest? Will it be an evening worth waiting for?    Rated T for the possibility of later chapters. This may change as I write the rest of the story. Please R


There was one thing that Hermione despised about being a war-heroine. The endless benefits, banquets, balls and events, thrown in honour of the 'Golden Trio: Saviours of our Time.' It wasn't the dressing up, the dancing, the people or even the dedications, it was simply the way they were conducted; the three of them were used as publicity pawns, all in the name of charity.

This, however, had been an event that Hermione had been hoping was different; the awarding of their Order of Merlin each. But indeed, it hadn't. All the Wizarding press had been invited, and despite the newly elected Minister of Magic's best attempts, they had been thrust into the limelight more than she cared for. After graciously accepting her Order of Merlin, and giving a small dedication speech on the behalf of the three of them, Hermione had slipped away from the crowds as people chattered and dance, opting to go upstairs to the circle balcony that ran around the emporium.

She had paid more attention to her attire than she had previously to such events, opting for a sophisticated yet sexy red satin gown. It was a stunning ruby red; the satin clung elegantly to her toned figure, dropping to the floor from her waist. The haltered straps turned to ribbons on her back that criss-crossed once, leaving her back completely exposed. It was completely different to the usual black and proper dresses she opted for. She had thought that it was the right occasion to dare to be different. How wrong she had been.

Resting her hands on the smooth mahogany balcony, she watched the people below her glide around the dance floor, the soft music playing to guide them, the soft noises of cutlery on china plates still tinkling in the background as some ate and observed. She wondered where Harry and Ron were; and if they'd even noticed she'd gone. While Harry was growing tired of the facade; having never led a normal and quiet life, Ron relished the limelight, enjoying being the centre of attention for once. She looked down to the floor, picking up her champagne flute that she had set aside, taking a delicate sip, and sighing. It wasn't even as though she could leave.

"And what mischief are you hoping to achieve skulking up here, Granger?" came a dark voice from behind her.

Hermione turned, and gave a small, well-mannered smile. "Professor."

"It would serve you well to remember I am no longer your professor. I have most certainly given up the occupation of teaching dunderheads."

"Well I somehow doubt me calling you Severus would be satisfactory for you either," she quipped, taking her eyes away from him, to watch below her once again.

Snape studied her for a while, tilting his head to the side in silent agreement. "You didn't answer my question."

"I wasn't aware you were awarding me the opportunity to."

He rolled his eyes. "Enough of the attitude, Granger."

"Well, seeing as you're no longer my professor, and a figure of authority, it would seem, I don't feel there's much need to do as you say. That compulsion had obviously gone."

Snape narrowed his eyes. "My my, the insufferable know-it-all has a mighty chip on her shoulder. What on earth is making you skulk up here?"

"I just don't particularly like these gatherings. Something I imagine, given your nature, you can sympathise with."

"Correct, Granger. I loathe them with a passion, not my scene in the slightest, however, attendance is compulsory."

"Which is perhaps why I am skulking; as you so skilfully put it...?" She drank some more of her champagne. When would Snape just piss off? She wasn't in the mood.

Snape studied Hermione again, his eyes flicking over her, looking at her attire, and surprisingly, he liked what he saw. He liked the way the material clung to her, revealing her enviable figure. He liked the way the bushy hair he remembered had been tamed back into a bouffant ponytail, swept to the side and curled and fixed with an ornate clip. He liked the way she seemed more adult, that she had a dry wit about her. He liked _her_.

"You and I both," he replied, looking down on the people below as she was.

Hermione thought over how she'd acted; a little harsh when he hadn't done anything wrong per se... She turned to him. "Sorry if I snapped."

"I am far from insulted by it, Granger. It's nice to see someone around here has a flaw at last."

"Many, actually." She stood up straight, finishing the rest of her champagne. She noticed the glass in his hand was empty. "Would you like another drink?" she offered.

He turned to her, a little surprised at her offer. "Allow me." He vanished their empty glasses. "Champagne?"

"Why not..." she replied. "For what a new dress and skulking cannot solve, champagne surely ."

She blinked when she heard him chuckle. "A similar sentiment to my own, Granger. Minus the dress, of course." He nodded, before hastily retreating through the narrow door that led to the stairs. He returned a few minutes later clutching a new flute and a brandy glass of his own.

"Thank you," she said softly, taken aback at his, dare she say, kindness, and his return to her.

"Have you no date for this delightful affair then? No handsome Quidditch star, or a multi-millionaire? Or, dare I say – Weasley?"

Hermione laughed. "Oh please... Ron and I were so wrong for one another. A passable screw but nothing more." She sipped on her champagne as he chuckled again. "Sorry, shouldn't have said that."

"No no, it's quite alright. I'm not one to shy from vulgarities."

"But no. I don't have a date. Never found someone who I might actually enjoy to be in the company of for a whole evening." She took another drink of champagne, her eyes darting to analyse Snape once again. He still looked much the same as she could remember, the only difference being a few more age lines across his face, and the scar that ran up his neck from Nagini's bite. His hair was slicked back and tied with a black ribbon, and his dress-robes were fitted across his seemingly lean physique. She wasn't repulsed by him at all, much to her surprise.

"I can imagine that you have high expectations of the company you keep," Snape commented.

"I don't think having expectations of intellectual or stimulating conversation is high. I think it's perfectly understandable to want to enjoy a conversation rather than have to sit bored through another conversation about the latest glamour charms - how well they enhance cheekbones, and how they can 'add such a shine to otherwise dull and lifeless hair', or the new broom that's going to be released."

"I suppose by that you are referring to the likes of women such Lavender Brown and many of the males here?"

"You would be correct in that." She rolled her eyes. "I never knew that there was so much to talk about when discussing hair volume boosting potions either."

"I hardly think I would be expert to talk about hair care."

Hermione snorted appreciatively. "Likewise."

"Well, if it helps, Granger, you seem to have controlled your hair tonight – perhaps you know more than you give yourself credit for."

"It's hardly worth the effort," Hermione said. "Not as if there are many wizards to impress here. Most are arrogant arseholes, the rest have the mental age of about 5. And the worst thing – some are a combination of both."

Severus nodded, chuckling. "I'm afraid to say you are right there. But I'm intrigued, are there no other categories?"

Hermione paused. "There are different strands of the same breed."

"And myself?"

"In my frank opinion..." He nodded his head, as if to grant her permission to continue. "...You're the arsehole breed. You might not be arrogant, but you still look down on everyone. And you treat most people like crap. You push people away with your cold demeanour and your sharp tongue, hurting them before they can hurt you, which in term causes isolatation of yourself – making you bitterer, and even more resenting."

Severus paused, before clapping, making her blink in surprise. "Marvellous, Granger. Ever considered a career in psychology?"

"Sorry, I said far too much." Hermione blushed, fiddling with her hair nervously. "Just… the drink loosens my tongue and… I get nervous around you."

"I thought I was no longer a figure of authority."

"I know…" Hermione said, flicking her eyes to him. "But you're a powerful wizard. It'd be foolish not to respect you, and fear you simultaneously." Snape didn't reply, but emptied his brandy glass, before vanishing it effortlessly with wandless magic.

Hermione cleared her throat. "So, no date for you then?"

He turned to her with a raised eyebrow. "Do I look the sort?"

"I don't know," Hermione said, nervously. "There's something to be said for tall, dark, intimidating, intelligent, witty and somehow-"

"Granger, how much have you been drinking."

"Too much and not nearly enough at the same time," she replied, blushing again. "God, I'm sorry. I'll leave you in peace. I've made a fool of myself, and now I'll go." She could feel her body temperature rising, under his gaze and in her embarrassment at how bold she had been; uncharacteristically so.

"No, Granger, you, don't have to. I'd much prefer your company than that of another glass, and another wasted evening."

Hermione smiled slightly, fiddling with her hair again. "I read in the paper that you've been conducting private research and making potions for St Mungo's."

"Partly correct. Research was always my favourite aspect of potion-making. If I feel I've made a particular development, I propose my findings to the board at the hospital – they use some of my own makings, some they do not risk."

"You should go into business, make some money from it," she suggested. "You're the best potions-brewer around."

"I don't have the patience or mind for business."

"I'm sure if you started your own business you could run it as you like…"

"Enough of the career advice, Granger. I've been around far longer than you have. My years have granted me with some knowledge of my aptitude and what is right for me."

"I know, but I just think if you could find someone with an already developed client base to go into business with, someone who has brains to work with you, to assist you…"

"And who, pray tell, would that be?"

Hermione cleared her throat, flattening down imaginary creases in her delicate dress. "Well… I suppose… you could go into business with me?"

Snape almost choked on air, spluttering slightly before turning to Hermione with his characteristic eyebrow raised, looking down his nose at her. It made her feel like she was back to being eleven all over again. "And why would you want to go into business with me? And why are you a suitable candidate, for that matter?"

"Because for the last few years I've been developing my own research as well. Admittedly, it's not in Potions, but in the field of charms. Charms that can enhance all kinds of things; charms that will be able to help many people in all aspects of life. I well imagine that there is a large gap in the market for a business that can provide potions or charms for all imaginable needs."

"Granger, do you have any idea how much money that would take? To build a reputable business takes years of –"

"Yes, it does take years. But you have years on your side, as you said before. You have a reputation to your name, and I am known for my intelligence, and I would easily create a clientbase from customers at work, and from my contacts in various fields. I have money, money I would willingly invest in a worthy business. Perhaps you should consider it."

"Granger, no disrespect, but what makes you think I would want to go into business with an ex-student?" He wouldn't admit, of course, that if she looked half as good as she did right now, he'd be all too happy to work side by side with her. _Old pervert_, he told himself, mentally shaking his head.

"Well, more fool you if all you can see me as is an ex-student. It's a shame; with that mentality… you limit _so many _possibilities." She knew the suggestion ran in her tone of voice, and the way she looked at him through her long, mascara curled eye-lashes enhanced the innuendo.

Snape could almost feel his trouser-contents twitch. Was the usually irritable chit actually _flirting_ with him? Unsure at how to take her comment, Severus cleared his throat. "What made you develop such charms anyway, Granger? I thought you were working at the ministry?"

"I was. For a few months, but found it totally wrong for me. So I took the money that Harry, Ron and I received from several endorsements that we did when we were younger, and… started my business. It's a small bookshop… It gave me time to research. I have binders and binders of research, ready to be applied and fully tested… But not the right venture in which to fully apply my findings and ideas."

"You say you have money…"

"Money isn't enough. It's too much to do on my own, I need a partner." She brushed a hand over her hair. "A business partner, I mean."

"I did not see it as a declaration of your romantic needs, Granger." Severus sniffed. Although she was single… maybe the girl did need a partner… maybe she had many needs that wanted sating. _Stop it_ he scolded himself.

"I…" Hermione trailed off, not knowing if there was a response that was appropriate. She closed her mouth, wishing she had a full flute of champagne to look at, or to sip at.

"Well, Granger… as delightful as this has been, I dare say if I don't show some appearance amongst the below crowd I may be treated as an absentee."

"Very well, Severus."

Instead of rejecting her use of his first name as she'd expected, Snape bowed his head, and stepped past her. "However tempting it may be, don't throw yourself from the balcony in my absence… or in such desperation to escape this evening."

"Fear not, should I feel the need, I'll come rushing to your side, for a dash of intelligent conversation as a form of resuscitation. Of course… should I choose to fall completely, I'd hope you'd be there to resuscitate as you see fit."

He turned back to look at her. He could hardly believe how the conversation had developed from attitude, to honesty, to pure flirtation. _Irritable… temptress_. "I'll be on the edge of my seat, waiting for such an occasion."

Hermione smirked. "'Til then."

Just something my wondering mind came up with... I'm such an addict to this pairing, I just completely love writing Snape. Anyway, this will be continued... see if Hermione does need that resuscitation after all ;) All Reviews welcomed and gratefully received... this is the first time I've posted a few things up, so would love to know what you think. Thank youuu, PP xxx


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